Hail Mary
by ModernNerd20
Summary: Thea is ripped from the life she knows and thrown into a whirlwind of crazy. Hell wants her dead, Heaven wants to use her as weapon, but what does she want? While she starts to understand her family history, she'll need to depend on the Winchester's to help her through. SLOW BURN Dean,OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all! So if you've read my older story,** _ **Prophet,**_ **you'll realize that this is the same story with a few new twists. There was something about the old version that just didn't sit right with me. I have most of this written already so I'll add a few chapters here and there while I work on finding my ending!**

 **As always, please read and review!**

Thea had never believed in magic. It was a made up idea that was for nothing more than the entertainment of children, and some questionable adults. There was no room for spells or magic wands in her reality.

But how could she deny what was right in front of her eyes? In the past few days she had witnessed things that couldn't be explained by logic. A man's eyes turning completely black, her body being ripped from time and space to be instantly transported somewhere else, chains appearing out of nowhere constricting her wrists, ankles and neck.

Yeah, this was magic. And it terrified her.

"You know this would all be over if you just tell me what I want to know." The red headed woman sighed as though she was quite bored with Thea. For days, she couldn't be sure how many, she'd been trapped in this dim basement chained to the wall behind her. The woman had never left. Not for a second. Not even to use the bathroom, which Thea was forced to do in a bucket... in front of everyone.

Everyone included the woman and two very large, very goonish men. But Thea's eyes hardly ever left the woman. Perhaps it was because she was the one holding the whip. Or the knife. Or the torch. It really just depended on her mood.

Today was the whip. It had Already cracked against Thea's skin a few times, leaving behind angry welts and in one case an open wound.

It sometimes seemed like there was nothing else in the world except for Thea, the woman, her toys, and those damn red gloves she kept snapping around her hands. Thea's body was in such shock and panic that a majority of the time she couldn't hear anything except her own heart beat and the snapping of the rubber gloves. She could see the woman speaking, but her voice never reached Thea's ears.

More than once, Thea had tried to give an answer, any answer to make her stop. In truth, she had no idea what the woman was talking about. It all sounded like madness. But she had tried to appease her.

"Where are the Winchesters?" The woman asked through a yawn. Thea was past the point of anger now, but when she had first seen the boredom in the woman's eyes she had been burning with rage. Did it bore her to torture another human? To burn their skin? To cut their flesh? To deny them food and sleep and water? Was this all just a big inconvenience?

"Arizona." Thea blurred out. She'd gone to Arizona with her parents once. It had been a boring trip, but it was the first place that came to mind. Were the Winchesters there? How the hell would she know. She didn't even know what a Winchester was!

"Kid come on." The woman threw her head back in frustration, her long red hair swaying down her back. "If you're gonna lie at least put some effort into it." Suddenly, as if being pulled by a rope, the woman came nose to nose with Thea. Her hot breath sprayed across her face as she hissed. "You're this close to becoming useless. " she held her hand up nearly touching thumb and pointer finger. "When I find you useless, I kill you. Slowly. I have a particular interest in flaying." She laughed bitterly. "Have you ever seen exposed muscle? It's actually quite beautiful."

Thea's stomach lurched at the thought. She wanted to die, but not like that. God please not like that.

"Please." She finally begged on a sob. "I don't know anything." Her voice was scratchy and hoarse from screaming. To Thea, it wasn't even her who was speaking. She didn't sound like that. Her voice was happy and strong. Not this rasping noise she was hearing.

"Aahhhh!" The woman yelled in Thea's face. "You pathetic little bitch!" She stood straight and buried the toe of her shoe into Thea's stomach. "Do you think they would save you?" She screamed down at Thea who was crumpled into a gasping heap on the floor. "Do you think those self righteous codependent idiots give a damn about your life?!"

"Maybe you should bribe her with something sweet." A thickly accented voice said. Thea's head jerked up instantly. It was the first voice she'd heard besides the woman's in... well however long she's been in the damn basement. "Try a piece of pie. They love pie. "

The man was standing in the corner, and she could have sworn he hadn't been there moments ago. He wore a black well fitted suit and shoes that somehow managed to shine in the poorly lit room. He gave off the same impression she'd expect to find in a used car salesman coming off a three day bender. A little rough around the edges but ultimately put together.

"You must have some planet sized balls to come here Crowley." The woman laughed. A sound that chilled Thea to the bone.

"While I assure you they're quite impressive," the man said smoothly "don't take me for a fool."

As if they'd been waiting for their cue, the two men turned their guns on the woman. Thea swore she saw her eyes flick red, but could she really trust her own mind at the moment?

"You know they won't win." The woman gave a sick smile.

"I don't need them to win." The man, Crowley, smiled in return. The two men sprung into action. The first hit the ground in a matter of seconds, his body seemed to hum and spark with electricity before he stilled.

Crowley was at her side before she even had time to process the death of the guard. He snapped his fingers and she felt the chains disappear. The damp air stung at the infected skin where the metal had rubbed.

"Time to go." Crowley said grabbing a hold of her arm. She noticed that he too was wearing gloves, but his were made of a soft black leather. The last thing Thea saw was the body of the second man fall at the red head's feet, and her red eyes glaring back at her.


	2. Rescued

**Super short chapter, but you'll find some great info inside! Enjoy and as always, review!**

 **Rescued**

The dank walls of the basement were gone and Thea's eyes had to painfully adjust to the brightness of the new light. Her knees were no longer against the cool cement, but rather on an equally hard but smooth wooden floor. She still felt Crowley's leather fingers around her forearm and she ripped her arm from his grip. She didn't want to give anyone the chance to put her back in chains.

Her first instinct was to run. But her eyes were still getting used to being out of the darkness. She couldn't even make out her surroundings, so where the hell would she run?

"Hello boys." Crowley drawled lazily. Thea could see the silhouettes of two others across the room.

"Crowley?" One of the men questioned. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"We're warded against punks like you." The other, shorter man sneered.

"Correction," Crowley held a finger up. "You are warded against the typical...punk... demon." He turned his finger on himself "King of Hell."

"What do you want?" The tall man said stepping forward. He looked nervously at Thea. "Who's this?"

"I have a proposition for you." Crowley stepped in front of Thea. "I want my throne back. And believe me, YOU should want me to have it back too. So, I'm here to make a..."

"Hold up." The short man took and angry step towards Crowley. "What makes you think we give a damn about where you park your ass? You two timing son of a-"

"I take it you haven't met Abadon." The boys blinked. "Right, so let me explain. I, Crowley, understand the importance of balance. I know the art of the deal. I know how to keep the earth alive and well so I have a never ending supply of souls." His voice had gotten increasingly louder as he spoke. "The red headed bitch on the other hand, wants destruction. Of everything. She'd tear you to shreds without a second thought. So you tell me, who would you rather deal with?"

"You expect us to take your word on this?" The short guy laughed curtly.

"Crowley, who is she?" The tall one repeated his earlier question.

"Ah yes." Crowley stepped aside and all eyes fell upon Thea. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she looked like to them. Tattered and useless clothing, blood soaked hair, bruised and swollen skin. "This is...well, she's my bargaining chip. My show of good faith if you will." The taller man crouched down in front of her.

"Sam don't." The other warned. "I wouldn't put it past him to give us one of his henchmen trying to pass her off as a human."

"That's where you're wrong Dean." Crowley picked absently at a fuzz on his jacket. "She's not human. This is Theadora Michaelson. And I wouldn't touch her if I were you, Moose." He swatted at the air around Sam's head to make him back off. "She's… well I guess you could call her the Mother of God."

Thea was startled by the laugh that came from her own mouth. This was all a mistake. Just a terrible, life threatening mistake.

"Uh, she seems bat shit crazy." Dean noted when Thea didn't stop laughing.

"It's been a rough day for her." Crowley's eyes rolled back in annoyance. "But I can assure you, she'll come in handy for your feathery friends."

"Because she's, you know, the Mother of God?" Dean openly laughed at the absurdity of Crowley's words. But Crowley wasn't laughing, even though there was a smirk plastered across his face.

"Laugh all you want," Crowley grumbled. "but remember who gave you this little gift when all Hell breaks loose. Literally."


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviews keep me alive!!**

CHAPTER 3

"What'd you do?" Dean asked accusingly. "Torture her?"

"Of course not!" Crowley yelled back. "Abadon kidnapped her. I rescued her!"

"Wait," Sam stood up straight. "Abadon had her?"

"Tortured her for information." Crowley reported, obviously grasping at the Good Samaritan card. "I got her out of there. For you. "

"Why did Abadon take her in the first place?"

"If you had listened to me in the first place, you wouldn't ask such dumb questions." Crowley rolled his dark eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me. King of Hell business to attend to." And with one last glance down at Thea, the man vanished.

And there she sat, well kneeled, still trying to hold in bursts of hysterical laughter. She knew nothing about this was funny. She'd been ripped from her solitary life as a newly online college student. Relentlessly tortured by one seriously pissed off ginger. Been accused of being the Mother of God? Whatever the fuck that means. And now, she knelt helpless, beaten, and broken in front of two complete strangers.

But if she didn't laugh she would cry. And if she started to cry, she was sure she'd never be able to stop.

"Hey," a nervous voice caught her attention and her eyes came up slowly from the floor. The taller of the men had once again crouched in front of her. " I'm Sam. That's my brother Dean." He jutted a thumb over his shoulder at the other guy.

"We're going to get you some help, okay."

Thea just stared back at him, hearing his words but not comprehending. The one in the back, Dean, was punching in numbers on and old flip phone. Who even uses those old dinosaurs anymore? She thought, feeling another laugh bubble in her chest. But she swallowed it down hard knowing it would make her look mad as hell to continue laughing uncontrollably.

"Dean, wait." A new man appeared out of thin air. Thea's head felt like it was going to explode. It was all too much. The magic, changing eyes, the random men just popping up out of nowhere. The only thing that seemed real to her was the pain. So that's exactly what she focused on. The rest had to be a very vivid dream. Nothing more. Because people and chains didn't just appear, and their eyes couldn't change color.

"Abadon will be searching for her." The new man, wearing a rather dirty looking and out of date trench coat, pointed out. "She'll be too easy to track in a human hospital." The man's sad eyes landed on Thea for a long moment.

"Look at her Cas, she needs a doctor." Dean waved his hand in Thea's direction. "And how the hell did you know..."

"Heaven has been onto Abadon for weeks now." He said matter of factly. "We knew what was going on from the beginning. Although we didn't expect to see Crowley."

"Does anyone ever expect to see that little rat. He just kinda shows up." Dean sneered. But then his eyes widened slightly and lips formed a thin line. "What the hell do you mean 'we knew what was going on from the beginning'?" His tone had changed drastically, becoming more serious and aggressive. "You're telling me you knew she had the girl and you did nothing? That the angels collectively thought it was okay to let someone be tortured by a demon on crack?"

"We had no other choice, Dean." The man adorning the coat said solemnly. "We couldn't risk Ab-"

"I don't give a crap what your excuse is, Cas. Just fix the damn girl." Dean shook his head in frustration as he sulked out of the room.

"I can't." Cas replied with a heavy sigh. "She can't be touched."

Thea's eyes went wide. How did he know that? Images of Abadon's glove covered hands raced through her mind. The feel of Crowley's leather gloves ghosted over her arm where he'd touched her.

They all knew she was different. They had been prepared.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean roared, shocking Thea so much that her body jumped and she toppled to the side and shuffled back.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Sam put a hand up as if to stop her from crawling away. Thea was pressed against the wall. She could feel the welts on her back from the whip searing from the contact.

"I'll show you." With nowhere else for her to go, she watched as the trench coat wearing man's fingers came to her forehead. As soon as his skin touched hers, he yanked his hand back and hissed in pain.

"She's been warded against angels?" Dean concluded as he watched his friend cradle his charred fingertips.

"No." the man said through gritted teeth. "It's God's protection for her. For her bloodline." All three men stared at Thea as she cowered against the wall.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Sam finally asked. His voice was calmer than she'd expected and it occurred to her that his life was always so full of magic and crazy. This was just another Tuesday for them.

"She is a descendant of Mary." Cas never let his gaze drop from her. Even though Thea's eyes were focused on the floor in front of her, she felt his heavy gray eyes.

"Uh, the virgin?" Dean's eyebrows soared to the sky, his eyes blinking rapidly in astonishment when Castiel nodded. "So the rat was telling the truth. Mother of God."

"Yes, Dean." Castiel furrowed his brows. "We need to hide her. She is still human, and Abadon can easily track her."

"Bobby's safe room." Sam blurted out. "It's warded against everything!" The brothers nodded in unison.

"Get her down there." Dean was still nodding as he spoke. "Cas and I need to have a little chat."

"Can you walk?" Sam asked, once again lowering himself to meet her eyes.

Was that a trick question? Because honestly, she had no idea. She'd been able to scuttle away from the trench coat guy, but actually climbing to her feet and moving? That was another story. Refusing to seem weaker than she already was, Thea used her arms to push herself off of the wall.

Sam put out a hand to help but he quickly pulled it back remembering Castiel's warning. Once she was on her feet she realized that there was little pain in her legs. In fact they felt completely fine. But maybe that was because her back and shoulders had taken such a beating that their pain drown out the ache of her other muscles. She could at least walk, albeit slowly.

Sam lead her to the top of a narrow flight of stairs that seemed to descend into a basement. That's what it smelled like anyway. Musty and damp, exactly like the hell hole she'd been kept in for the past few days.

Instantly she felt her chest tighten, the air escaping her lungs. Beads of sweat broke out across her forehead and on her palms. Her heart started pounding against her chest as if trying to break free from its prison.

She couldn't go down there. It was the same place she'd come from. The same place Crowley had saved her from. Was this part of Abadon's plan? Was this a new form of torture? Make her think she's safe and then trick her right back down into her chains?

The thoughts slammed into Thea's head at an agonizing pace. She couldn't make sense of them.

"It's safer down here." Sam assured her. But of course that's what he'd say even if it was the most unsafe place in the world. Right? She couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust any of them. For Christ's sake she didn't even know them!

"What's going on?" Thea heard Dean's voice from behind her.

"Thea? It's safe down stairs." Sam tried again. "I'll even go down first. Would that help?" His voice seemed real. It seemed genuine.

"We don't have time for this." Dean groaned. She could hear heavy footsteps approaching, but before she was able to turn around she had been swooped up and tossed over a shoulder like a small child.

"No!" Was the only thing she could think to scream. It carried so many meanings in that moment. No, don't bring me down there. No, don't pick me up without permission. No, don't invade my privacy. No, don't touch me. No, you're hurting me. But she couldn't voice all of those thoughts, so no was all she gave. And she gave it over and over again. Her fists pounding into the back of his jacket, legs thrashing at his stomach. Anything to get him to let go.

His one arm steadied her at the back of her thighs, the other hand was sprawled across her back, keeping her trapped. The contact with her wounds made fresh tears spill from her eye. Even with his hasty movements, he was careful not to touch her skin.

"Dean!" Sam barked. But Dean already had Thea halfway down the staircase.

"Time is luxury we don't have Sammy." He called up. "You really want that ginger bitch knocking at our door?"

Thea heard his words and had a thought. Maybe they don't work for Abadon. Maybe they're just as afraid of her as Thea was. Maybe they really were trying to help.

Maybe.

Still, she didn't stop fighting against Dean's hold. Not until he flopped her off his shoulder and onto a creaking metal cot.

"Now, you're not gonna leave this spot until we tell you to." His finger was pointed in her face.

"Please don't..." she gasped for air, desperately trying to give her lungs some freedom. An image of iron chains popped into her mind and suddenly the raw skin around her wrists seemed to hurt even more. "No more chains, please." She pleaded. Thea knew she couldn't fight them. Any of them. And she hated to sound this pathetic, but it was her only option.

"I'm not..." Dean's face softened a bit. " I'm not gonna chain you up." His eyes flickered down to her hands. "No one is going to chain you up again." His voice was firmer this time around. "This room is protected against everything. Demons like Abadon, angels like Cas, werewolves, vamps, whatever you can think of, they can't get in." He was gesturing around the room, which Thea noticed was decorated with hundreds of ornate patterns and symbols. "The only people who can get in here are you, me, and Sam."

His words brought a strange sense of relief over her, but only for a second. Did it comfort or frighten her that the two men could get to her where no one else could? She wasn't sure. Whatever side they were on, it didn't seem to be Abadon's. And that was a good thing. But obviously their mental health was in question. Thea raised her eyebrows and stared directly into Dean's green eyes.

"Werewolves?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She was hyperventilating.

It was all real.

All of it

Real.

How was that even possible? It wasn't. It couldn't be. Werewolves, vampires, witches, angels, demons, fucking fairies! They couldn't be real.

But yet, she had seen them. She had felt the power of a demon. Felt her magic. Even Thea herself had some kind of magic. She'd always thought of herself as a freak. Some kind of abomination, but hey, throw on some long sleeves, stay single and she was good to go. Her life was nearly normal.

This. All of this, was not normal.

"I know its a lot to take in." Sam sympathized. He had followed them down the stairs when Dean had forced her down here.

"You think?" She couldn't help the sarcastic retort. She pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed her eyes closed so tightly that she started to see white spots. "Why is this happening to me?" She asked to no one in particular. She received no answer. Instead, there was a long uncomfortable silence. "What happens now?" She finally asked when the quiet became too much.

"First, we get you fixed up." Dean shared a look with his brother, most likely wondering how in the hell they'd be able to help her when her skin would fry thiers. "Then we'll talk about a plan." he spun towards the door, eyes landing on the Angel. "Will she like, magically heal? Does she have that kind of juice?"

"No." Castiel said solemnly. "She's human, just a very special one." Again, Thea felt the overwhelming urge to burst out with laughter. Of course she was human.

Wasn't she?

Yeah, okay, maybe she was a little different, but it didn't stop her from living a very boring, very human life. She went to school and made friends. She played sports, wrote for the high school paper, she had her first job at a dirty fast food place, just like all the other kids in town. She went to college, she drank herself sick a time or two, skipped a few classes, aced a few others.

Everything about Theadora was completely ordinary.

Until her mother died last year.

Since then, she hasn't been able to touch another person, or be touched. Her skin burns anyone that makes contact with it. She'd been ignoring that fact as long as possible, secretly wondering if it was all in her head. But a small part of her was almost grateful, it gave her an excuse to seclude herself. To shut herself into a tiny world away from the others. Away from the friends she used to have that look at her with sorrow and pity in their eyes. Away from the prying questions of the counselor the school insisted she see.

She just wanted to be alone. And her new… gift?... had been the perfect excuse.

Of course she never told anyone about it. For all her friends knew, she had just fallen off the face of the earth. Did any of them care? Did any of them miss her? The first time she had hurt someone had been the day after her mother's death. A nice man at the funeral home had been showing her different flowers she could choose from. Her hand had brushed his as he passed her another bouquet to examine.It was nothing more than a fleeting instant of contact, but still left a small blister on his fingers. They'd chalked it up to a crazy static shock. But Thea had felt it in her bones. She had felt the heat coil around her heart and spread through her like a wildfire. Did I do that? She remembered thinking for days leading up to the funeral.

Her fears were confirmed when it happened again with her college roommate. Her mother is… was… a quiet woman who had kept to herself, so Thea wasn't surprised when only a handful of people had come to her funeral. Kiersten was her only friend from school who was willing to make the drive out to Thea's hometown in Jersey. She was also the first one to arrive. She could remember tensing up as kiersten came in to hug her, a gesture meant to be comforting and full of concern. But the thought of the funeral director's blistered hand kept Thea's body rigid.

And then it happened. Kiersten's hands splayed across Thea's back, part of which was not covered by her black dress. She'd ripped away, but the damage was done. The palms of Kiersten's hands were red and blistering before her eyes. A terrified and pain ridden scream tore through the girl's throat. That's when Thea knew there was something wrong with her.

So she ran.

She went to her house, now empty and lonely, and never left.

Until she had been ripped away by one of Abadon's Hellians.

"Hey." Dean's voice brought her back to the present. All three men now stared at her expectantly. She'd done it again. She'd let herself be carried away by thoughts and lost track of the real conversation.

"What?" she asked, a bit dazed.

"Can you manage on your own?" his eyes roamed over her, making her uncomfortable. "Sam has a first aid kit up stairs. Think you can patch yourself up?"

"Uh, yeah." she stuttered trying to imagine how the hell she'd get her fingers to reach the middle of her back.

"Yeah, super convincing." Dean huffed, clearly not buying it. "We got any gloves in the kitchen?" he asked his brother, who nodded and jogged up the narrow staircase.

"I can do it myself." Thea forced the words to sound confident and strong, and for a moment she was impressed with herself. She didn't want them touching her. She didn't want them looking at her, or standing in the same room with her for that matter. All Thea wanted was to be left alone so she could curl in on herself and cry. She needed to cry, she could feel it in her stomach. The tears, sadness, anger and confusion all swirled in her gut like a storm about to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting town.

"We should be fine with gloves. Sam will…" he began, but Thea cut him off.

"No." she said firmly. "Don't… just go." this time she must have shocked Dean with the ferocity of her tone because his eyebrows skyrocketed and he leaned back an inch before regaining his composure.

"Listen," Dean's eyes softened but his voice remained stern. "We're the good guys here. So turn the bitch switch to off."

Sam cleared his throat. "What Dean means is, we don't want to hurt you."

"Get out!" The scream bubbled in her chest before it burst past her lips. "Get away

from me!"

The brothers shared another glance, this one longer than the other. Thea was ready to scream again, and again, and again until they left her.

"Fine." Dean said on a frustrated sigh. "We'll give you tonight. But tomorrow, you better be ready to answer some questions."

They left the room without another word. Thea sat there, still as stone for a long time. Long after Sam came back and left a first aid kit at her feet. Long after her back grew sore from the rickety cot. Long after her feet went numb from the lack of circulation.

Her mind wouldn't allow her to even begin processing what she'd learned or what she'd seen. All she could do was focus on the pain she felt. The excruciating throbbing pain. She didn't remember when she fell asleep, curled up on her side in the only position that didn't exacerbate the pain.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Beads of sweat began to break out across Dean's forehead The air wasn't even hot, but his mind was working so hard that it felt like 100 degrees under the hood of the Impala.

Every thought he had was either focused on the pristine engine in front of him, or the broken girl in the basement. Smooth metal, bruised skin. Coiled wires, snaking scars.

For the second time in 10 minutes, he checked the oil. The metal wand came back dripping with the black, thick liquid. The same color as her eyes. When he'd first seen her, kneeling behind Crowley, he'd mistaken her for one of his cronies. It wasn't until she blinked up at him that he saw the whites of her eyes. But even so, the darkness of them was unsettling.

Everything about her was unsettling. He didn't like to admit it, but something about the girl frightened him. He was… afraid of her? Afraid of what she meant to their fight. Afraid of how her existence throws a wrench in their game plan. Afraid of what would happen to her now that she's with them.With him.

"How's she looking?" Sam's unexpect voice caused Dean to jerk, slamming his head against the hood.

"Dammit, Sam!" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head.

"What's got you so jumpy?" Sam smirked.

"Oh, I don't know." Dean feigned thought. "Maybe the thousand year old demon bitch that's hunting us down?" he turned and carefully brought the hood down. "Baby's fine, by the way. Any signs of life downstairs?" The girl had been asleep all night and half of the following day. Is that even healthy?

"Haven't heard anything yet." his brother sighed, which usually meant he was about to launch them into a long, emotional talk. "Dean, we can't just keep her locked up in Bobby's basement. It's… wrong. In a lot of ways."

"What else do you want to do?" Dean tossed the oily rag into a nearby bucket. "We can bring her to the bunker, but someone will probably snag her on the way. We let her go, she'd demon chow. Plain and simple."

"I know."

"You want that on your hands, be my guest." he wiped his hands on his shirt, covering the white fabric in grease and oil. "I'm staying away from this one."

"Staying away from this one?" Sam spat back at him on a laugh. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Come on, Sammy, think about it." He shoved past his brother towards the house. "I'm the worst thing for this girl."

"Dean,"

"Mom, Dad, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Kev. Jesus, even you." he ticked off the names on his fingers. "Everyone close to me either ends up hurt or dead." he shook his head. "Not this time. I'm not letting it happen to her. To anyone."

"Look Dean, as far as we know, this girl can't even die." Sam's voice grew louder until Dean stopped walking away. "She's protected by God, Dean. We literally can't touch her."

"Yeah, well, she can still bleed. She can still feel pain. Abadon made that clear." Dean continued towards the house, Sam on his heels trying to reason with him.

"Where are you going?"

"To wake her up." Dean grumbled. "I have a few questions to ask, then you can do whatever you want with her."

To his surprise, the girl was awake when they got to the bottom of the stairs. At least he thought she was. Her eyes were open, but the rest of her body was completely still where she laid on the cot. If it wasn't for the fact that her eyes followed his every move, he would have thought she was dead.

"You ready to talk?" he jumped right to the point. She stayed frozen for a few moments before slowly pushing herself up to a sitting position. He could see the pain she was trying to hide in the movements.

"I'm ready to leave." She said placidly. Dean felt a prick of something in his gut when she looked him dead in the eye.

"Well, that's not up to me." He swallowed hard. "First things first, what does the Knight of Hell want with you?"

"No idea." her voice was cold. "I'm leaving." She stood up, clearly intending to stroll right out of the room.

"You walk out of here and we can't protect you." he said stepping in front of her.

"I don't need protection." Her voice was strong, but he saw the way her hands shook with fear. Or was it pain? Anger? Regardless, she was showing emotion that she wanted to keep hidden.

"Thea, please." Sam's voice was softer than Dean's, filled with sympathy and compassion. Dean needed to learn how to mimic it. The girl stopped, eyes fastening to Sam over Dean's shoulder. "We want to help you."

"How?" she didn't sound nearly as strong now.

"Well for one thing, we want to keep you safe." Sam stepped into the room. "This is the safest place for you until we figure out something better." he gestured to the warded walls. "We have a few questions. Maybe the answers can help us understand why Abadon did this and why Crowley thought we would need you."

"I don't know anything." Thea wailed. "All I know is that last year my mom died, and since then I couldn't touch anyone. Or be touched." She reached for Sam who had come to stand even with Dean. Her fingers grazed his arm and left an ugly red mark in their wake. Sam jumped back with a hiss, both startled and hurt. "See."

"Whoa." Dean grabbed her by the wrist, making sure to touch her sleeve and not her bare skin. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but she ripped her arm away with a cry. He realized that her wrists were still sore and raw from the chains Abadon had kept her in. On the floor, untouched, lay the first aid kit Sam had given her last night.

"I hurt everyone." her shoulders had straightened in defiance. "So let me go before I hurt you."

"Is that a threat?" Dean said, slightly amused. Her black eyes bore into his, unwavering. "So your mom dies and all of a sudden you're girl on fire?"

"I swear." she nodded.

"And before that?" some of the anger was leaving her eyes, so Dean pressed on.

"Before that, nothing." she shrugged. "I was completely normal." He raised his eyebrows with skepticism. "I was. Mom ran a fairly tight ship, but nothing like… this." she tilted her head towards Sam, who still cradled his burnt arm.

"What about your mom?" Dean asked. "Maybe when she died, this… whatever it is, was passed down to you?" Thea thought for a moment.

"I don't know." she concluded. "She was a germaphobe. Never shook hands or hugged anyone besides me."

"And your father?"

"Deadbeat." she shrugged again. "He ran off before I was born."

"How'd she die?" Sam asked quietly.

"Car accident. We were both in the car, but…" she took a deep breath, "mom didn't make it."

"And you came out without a scratch?" Dean cocked his head. He knew Sam was giving a disapproving look. It was a rude question.

"Yeah. Well, sort of." she looked between the two of them. "I was hit with a piece of metal from the other car. It left a nasty scar, but that was it."

"Let me see." it wasn't a question.

"What?" she looked at Sam, as though he was the one who could clarify.

"Dean, what…" his brother started to ask a question but Dean ignored him.

"Let me see the scar." he repeated. She shook her head with an incredulous look on her face.

"No." she said, taking a step back. He watched the familiar look of defiance glaze over her features. "No, this is ridiculous. I'm leaving."

"Just show us." Dean blocked her path to the door again.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing." Sam's eyes were wide with confusion.

"Trust me, Sammy." he smirked. "I have a hunch."

Thea considered her options. Fight her way out, which definitely wouldn't end well for her. Both men towered over her and could easily crush her in their arms. She could keep refusing to do what they asked, but how long before they took matters into their own hands. Even though Sam insisted that they wanted to help, the look in Dean's eyes told her that was conditional. He'd strip her down to find the scar if she didn't show him.

It's not a big deal anyway. Right? It's just a scar. It's not even in a provocative place. It's her shoulder blade. If she'd been wearing a tank top, they would have already seen it. So why was her throat constricting at the thought of showing them? Why did her heart pounding relentlessly against her chest?

She sucked in a lung full of air and turned around. The neck of her shirt was so stretched out she found it easy enough to reach behind her back and pull it as far down as she could on the right side. She tilted her head to the side so her matted hair fall out of the way.

Thea's body flinched with surprise when she felt a hand brush a few remaining strands of hair over her shoulder. She couldn't see him, but she knew it was Dean. His fingers hooked into the collar of her shirt and tugged it down an inch further, getting a full look at the scar she knew was there. The image surged into her mind. Strange curls and spirals from the searing hot metal that had connected with her skin. It had both burned and cut into her flesh.

"This look familiar to you?" Dean's deep voice broke the silence in the room. Sam didn't reply, but she knew that Dean's "hunch" was right. She could feel the smugness in his words. "Call Cas."


	6. Chapter 6

**Read... Review... Repeat.**

Chapter 6

"It's Anokian." Cas nodded as he stared at the picture on Sam's phone. "It means mother. Well, actually, the English language doesn't have a translatable word for this symbol, but mother is a fairly close sentiment."

"Hit with a piece of metal my ass." Dean mumbled.

"Most likely," Cas continued. "the mark was transferred when her mother's heart stopped beating."

"So it's like a curse?" Sam had already pulled a few books off the shelf to shuffle through. "Is that what makes her skin burn?"

"Yes." Cas answered. He didn't seem like he was going to explain until Dean prompted the Angel. "The mark is supposed to keep those who will do her harm away. Although, when God created this protection, it was fairly hard to kill someone without using your hands. This was before humans began using their free will to develop weapons."

"Sounds like daddy-o needs to update his tactics." Dean quibbed bitterly. Once again, God has failed to protect someone he was supposed to. Shocking.

"Alright, so how do we get rid of it?" Sam asked. He already had another book in his hand, his thumbs flipping through pages furiously. Cas stared emptily at the picture.

"I suppose, if we knew the ingredients of the spell we could figure out how to break it. But this," he shook his head "is a very, very old spell. One of God's first."

"Hold up here." Dean leaned over Bobby's old desk. His back cracked from hours of restless sleep and huddling under Baby's hood. "If this spell protects her from people who want to hurt her, then why are we all getting fried? We're the good guys, remember?"

"I guess the correct phrase is, it protects her from beings who could hurt her. The Virgin can not die before she gives birth to the Savior or the next generation."

"And how does she go about putting a bun in the oven when no one can stand to touch her?" Dean snorted.

"Immaculate conception, obviously." The unexpected voice from behind him made Dean's shoulders tense. But once his eyes found her in the doorway, the muscles in his back relaxed again.

"Yes." Castiel nodded. The Angel's eyes were glued to the girl as though she were made of gold. Maybe to the Angels, she was gold. She was, afterall, one of the most important players in the bible.

"You should stay in the safe room." Sam closed his book and jumped to his feet. She looked like hell. Strands of her muddy brown hair clung to the sweat and dried blood caking her forehead, Clothes that were ripped and worn to the final thread, sallow skin, cracked lips.

Hell.

He recalled the red and angry welts he glimpsed on her back when he examined the mark. He couldn't see all of the damage, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Next to his brother, she looked small and fragile. She IS small and fragile. He reminded himself.

"You heard the man," she threw a hand in Castiel's direction. "I can't die." Her voice had taken on a strange dissociated quality. Almost as if she were talking about someone other than herself. Or like she was drunk.

"Yeah, but you can still get hurt." Sam tried to gesture her back downstairs, but she stood stock still. "Abadon isn't above torture. You know that."

That sent a shiver over her body. A coil tightened in Dean's chest at the thought of her chained to a wall like livestock.

"What are my options?" she kept her focus on Cas, completely ignoring the brothers.

"Your options are to stay in the damn safe room, or… stay in the damn safe room." Dean couldn't explain where the anger came from. Maybe it wasn't anger. Frustration? Worry? Whatever he was feeling, he knew that getting her back downstairs would ease it.

"So I'm either Abadon's prisoner, or I'm yours. Is that it?" She cocked her head to one side. Her eyes shimmered as though a small fire was lit just beneath the surface. He liked her better when she was quiet.

"You're either in that room, or you die." He stepped closer, between her and Sam. It was easy to tower himself over her, forcing her crane her neck if she wanted to meet his eyes. "Every second you spend outside of that room, away from the wardings, is another chance for the bitch to track you down. Another chance for her to barge in here, guns blazin', ready to kill. Maybe she kills you, maybe she kills me. But maybe she kills my brother. I'm not taking that risk." his chest was inches from hers now. He hoped he was as intimidating as he meant to be. Maybe he'd be able to scare her back downstairs. "So help me God I will throw you in and lock the door until we figure this shit out. Or you can just" he shrugged for effect "do what I say."

The words he wanted to use were "trust me". But the last person he asked to trust him, died. An image of kevin flashed through his mind before he returned his focus on the girl. Her eyebrows knitted together, her feet glued to her spot. He could see the resistance, he could feel it rolling off of her body. She turned her shoulders, ready to walk away from him, away from the basement. He couldn't let her go.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged once again and clamped his fingers around her bicep. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. With an easy tug, he uprooted her feet from the floor and half dragged her towards the basement door.

"Dean!" Sam cried out warningly. Was he warning him not to be so rough? Or was he warning him about…

"Shit." Dean let go of her instantly, but it was too late. His fingers had touched her skin. He yanked his hand back and inspected.

Nothing.

No burns. No blisters. No pain.

"What the hell?" he blurted out at the same time she sucked in a long breath of surprise. "You can turn it off?" he hadn't meant to yell, but the idea infuriated him. "This whole time you could stop it and you still chose to burn Sam?"

"No," she was shaking her head, eyes latched onto Dean's hand.

"We're sticking our necks out for you. To keep you safe, and you go all 'Katnis Everdeen' on us?" His cheeks were burning with anger.

"No!" she shouted back. Sam tugged at the back of Dean's flannel, pulling him back. He hadn't realized that he had gotten closer again. "If I could turn it off, do you think I would have forced myself into complete isolation for over a year?" for some inexplicable reason, Dean was glad to hear her yell. The strength in her voice gave him a strange sense of hope that he couldn't understand. "I left my home, my school, my friends, all because I was so afraid that I would hurt someone. That they'd think I was some science experiment. That they'd hate me! So if I could turn it off, I damn sure would have!"

Without thinking it through, Dean reached out and grabbed her wrist. The skin there was red from the chains, but it was bare. His fingers wrapped around, pressing his skin against hers. She jerked back, trying to free herself, but his grip held.

Again, nothing.

"Cas, what the hell is going on?" Dean looked over his shoulder at his friend. The Angel's face was scrunched in thought, and flattened back to it's stoic self when the answer finally came to him.

"Michael was the only one that God trusted with Mary." he was nodding as he spoke, like he was putting the pieces together with each word.

"The Archangel." Sam was nodding too. His brother's nerdiness never ceased to amaze him. How the hell did he understand that vague line of thinking?

"Great. So what's that got to do with me?" he released Thea's arm and she backed away from him, pushing her back against the wall behind her. He watched pain sting across her face, reminding him that she was still injured, no matter how tough she sounded.

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "You are the Michael-Sword."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Feeling someone else's skin caused a strange mix of peace and nausea to collide in Thea's stomach. The warmth of his fingers at her wrists was alien to her. She had forgotten what touch felt like.

There was a fundamental connection between the brain and the body. Humans need touch just as they need water and food. It wasn't just mental, it was biological. Infants could die from lack of touch. People could lose their minds without bodily interactions.

She understood now the importance it held, because Dean's touch was paralyzing.

The Angel was speaking, but her ears were ringing with surprise and confusion and greed all at the same time. Surprise that her skin did not hurt him. Confused as to why. Greedy for more.

"...protect the Holy Mother." she caught the tail end of Castiel's sentence. "With Michael in the cage, that job has been turned to you." Dean was shaking his head angrily.

"No, you see that doesn't sit well with me." He looked up at the ceiling. "You hear that asshole? I'm not doing it."

 _Oh God, he's lost his mind._ Thea thought nervously. A mentally unstable man was a dangerous man.

"Dean, this is a good thing." Sam tried to reason with him.

While all eyes were on Dean, Thea made her quiet exit through the back door.

The sun, which she hadn't seen in over a week, was bright. But the air around her was cold, which reminded her that they were in the beginning of November. The brightness caught her off guard and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the blaring light. But just as she readied herself to take her first steps through the threshold, something caught on to the back of her shirt, pulling her back into the old house.

Though the pull wasn't hard, she heard the collar of her shirt give way and tear under the strain. Afterall, it was so soaked in dried blood and sweat that she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. She felt the cool air whisp around her exposed skin. It wasn't a huge tear, just to the middle of her shoulder blades, but it was enough to let the air sting the open wounds.

"No you don't." she heard Dean say from behind her. Of course, it had been him that had pulled her back inside. With as much speed as she could muster, Thea whirled around and went for him… well, went for his pockets that is. Earlier, she'd watched him stuff a phone into the front pocket of his jeans. If she could get her hands on it, dial 911 she'd be free. She didn't even need to actually talk to anyone, just calling and leaving the line open long enough would bring a squad car to the door!

Her hands frantically tried to feel for the phone. At last, fingers circled around the small cool plastic frame. Dean was so startled by her sudden energy that he took a second to catch on, giving her the time she needed to wrench the phone free and flip it open.

But that's as far as she got. Dean's hands came crashing down on hers. For a brief moment, they struggled with each other, each trying to wrestle the cell from the other. In the end, Thea was still weak, she was still no match for his superior size and strength.

"Fine." Dean was angry, the emotion was thick in his voice. "Fine, you wanna walk out of here, then go." He threw his hands towards the door. "Walk away. But don't think for second that we'll be there to pull your ass out of the fire when it catches." He stormed away, heavy footsteps echoing throughout the house.

Thea watched him go, watched his shoulders shift with annoyance as he left her by the door. Sam's eyes were pleading for her to stay, but he must have known it was useless because he did nothing to stop her as she walked out the door.

She hadn't realized how isolated they were. There was nothing. Not a single house, car or store for miles. Just long, straight stretches of woods along the sides of the gravel road.

Thea had no shoes, and after half an hour, the bottoms of her feet began to leave a trail of blood in their wake. Her legs wobbled, back seared with pain, stomach growled with hunger. She had to find help soon or she'd collapse right here in the middle of this God forsaken road.

If she prayed, would someone answer. Angels are real. Demons are real. So why can't God be real. And, she must be pretty damn important to him, right? _Mother of God_ and all.

She didn't have to pray. A few steps later she heard the soft rumble of a car behind her. The lights were a dead giveaway that it was help, if the word _Sheriff_ scrawled on the side wasn't enough of a clue. Thea waved her arms what little she was able.

The relief that washed over her at the sight was enough to make her knees weak and drop her to the gravel. In the back of her mind she was aware of the tiny pebbles digging into her skin. Tears swelled into her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Are you hurt?" a feminine voice rang out. It sounded so far away. Through the tears, Thea could see someone coming closer, running closer. She heard the crunch of rocks and dirt under the Sheriff's boots, but buzz of a radio, the hum of the idle engine. _It's the sound of help,_ she thought groggily.

Between the pain, lack of sleep, hunger and thirst that ate away at her body, her mind was overwhelmed and disorganized. Like a puzzle before it's put together, all of its pieces jumbled in the cardboard box. Eventually, they'll form a picture. They'll create something that make sense. But right now, they're useless.

"What happened?" The voice asked, closer than Thea had realized.

In the back of her head she reminded herself, _don't mention demons, or angels, or werewolves_. _Normal people wouldn't rambled about monsters._ But her mind gave her no other words, no other thoughts to convey to this officer. To her own personal Angel.

Thea tried to clear her vision with the back of a dirty hand, no doubt smearing more dirt and dried blood across her face. The woman was kind faced. Large round eyes filled with concern. She wanted to say something more to her.

 _Help. Please. Make the pain stop. Give me water. Save me._

But all that came out when she opened her mouth was one simple word.

"Demons."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter** **8**

When Jody Mill's name appeared on his caller ID, Dean knew it couldn't be good. The Sheriff never called with good news. It was always another lead, another case, another death. This time wouldn't be any different, and if he was being honest with himself, they really didn't have time for a new case.

But when she claimed to have found a girl who had been attacked by demons, his ears perked up.

"I'm listening." he said into the receiver.

"She's pretty banged up." Jody whispered. The victim must have been in the room with her. "She was only able to whisper a few words before conking out on me. But "demons" was pretty clear. I'm gonna get her to a hospital, but wanted to give you boys a heads up."

"Did you get a name?" he asked. He had a gut feeling the vic was Thea. And he always trusted his gut.

"Nope." Jody huffed. "Didn't get that far."

"What's she wearing?"

"What the hell does that matter?" Her voice had a sharp edge to it. "If this becomes one of those 'she was asking for it' conversations I swear to God,"

"Blue quarter length shirt with blood stains and a ripped open back?" he interrupted her tirade before it even began.

"You know her?"

"Yeah, listen Jodes," he let out a long breath. "Be careful not to touch her skin. She's, well, it's complicated. Just don't move her."

"Uh, we're sorta on the side of the road here Dean. Can't really stay put." he could picture her shaking her head and scrambling for another option. "I'll get her to my place."

"See you in 20." he flipped the phone closed and called for Sam.

"Where is she?" Dean grumbled as he walked through the door.

"Uh, nice to see you too." Jody rolled her eyes. "Before you go in there like a tornado, you owe me some answers."

"Demons, the end of the world, the mother of God." Dean listed off sarcastically. He loved Jody, but the frustration and stress of the past few weeks had worn him down.

"What Dean means is, she's important." Sam stepped in and gave Jody a quick hug. "She's, well it's hard to explain but, she's the mother of God. Like Mary." he waited for a question, but when she stayed silent, he plowed on. "She's a descendant of Mary's bloodline, and according to the Angels, she's going to give birth to the savior. The only thing that can stop Lucifer."

"Okay, you see," Jody said after a brief pause. "What I see is a scared and broken girl. She can't be more than what, 20 years old? So I don't give a damn how 'important' she is, you're not going in there unless you can calm the hell down." Her dark eyes were on Dean, searing into his mind. She could see through the hard exterior. She could see the hurt and anger below the surface. And she wasn't going to let him bring that anywhere near the girl.

He knew she was right. He'd been hard on the kid, and there was no other reason for it other than his own need to be an ass. He could play nice. But he wouldn't let himself get attached. Not like he had with Kevin. This was just another job.

"Maybe I should go in." Sam nudged Dean's shoulder.

"No way." Dean straightened his spine in defense. "She can burn you alive, literally." Both brother's ignored Jody's questioning expression.

"That's the point, Dean." he peered around the corner towards where they knew Jody's living room to be. "If it's me in front of her, she knows she's not completely defenseless. She can still protect herself from me in some small way. She can't do that with you." A long silence stretched out. He was right, as Sammy always was. But that didn't mean Dean was happy with it.

"Uh, someone wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Jody interrupted their staring contest. Sam didn't wait for Dean's response. He turned on his heels and strode into the living room. Dean's teeth ground together in irritation, but Jody's hand on his shoulder brought him back down. "Hi." she said, forcing him to look at her. "Talk to me." she gave him a slight push towards the kitchen.

Dean explained it all from start to finish, leaving Jody speechless. He couldn't help crane his neck to see around the corner into the living room. But it was pointless. He couldn't hear or see his brother.

"Wow." Jody finally let out on a sigh. "So what are you going to do to help her?"

"What?" Dean hadn't been listening.

"Thea?" Jody raised her eyebrows. "How are you going to help her?"

"Get her to the bunker." he shrugged. "It's warded against, well, everything."

"Okay." She nodded in agreement. Dean noticed a few gray strands hidden in her otherwise chocolate colored hair. "And then?"

"And then what?" he shrugged again, still straining to hear any conversation from the other room. "We keep her safe."

"So your plan is to, what, lock her up until she dies?"

Dean finally looked down at the uniformed woman in front of him. Her hands were planted on her hips, disapproval plastered all over her face. His mind raced to think of a quick answer, but failed. He didn't have an answer. He didn't have a plan.

"I don't know, Jodes." he admitted. "But we can't keep her out here in the open. She's a sitting duck." The sheriff squinted up at him for a few more seconds. He felt the pressure of her scrutiny in every cell. This woman could see through him, see into him, like no one else could. Some small part of her reminded him of Ellen. The do no harm but take no shit attitude ran deep within both women. He admired that.

"Hey." Sam broke through Dean's concentration.

"So?" Dean and Jody asked at the same time.

"She's going to come with us." he said with a smile. Dean's heart leapt, and then crashed back down. An unexplainable wave of fear washed over him. But he shook it off.

"Just like that?" he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I explained it all, who we are, what we do. The whole nine yards." He shrugged as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Dean was suspicious, but for once, he kept his smart ass comment to himself.

"Good. let's get going."

"Hold on just a minute." Jody raised her eyebrows. "If you think I'm just gonna let you rip her out of here without a meal and a damn shower, you're out of your minds." She folded her arms over her chest, daring them to protest. Dean always liked a dare.

"We don't have time…"

"That girl is covered in her own blood, Dean." the sheriff took an extra step forward, invading his space. "Head to toe. Let the girl wash it off. Let her leave it behind so she can focus on what's in front of her." Her voice was soft, but it left no room for discussion. She waited half a minute and when neither of the men replied, she hurried into the living room.

If Dean had known it would take the girl almost 2 hours to shower and change into a clean outfit Jody had supplied, he would have never let it happen. But he had to admit, she looked better. The hot water washed all of the dark dried blood from her skin and left her looking fresh, even if she was a little red. He imagined she spent most of those two hours in the shower scrubbing her top layer of skin off. Could he blame her? The one thing she couldn't scrub away were the freckles that scattered across her cheeks and nose. It made her look younger than she really was. Or at least, how old he thought her to be. 22? 23? No, she was a college student, so 20?

Her hair, now that it's been washed (probably two or three times) and dried, was a soft black. Darker at the top and lighter at the ends. Almost as though she'd dyed her hair long ago and forgot to keep up with it. Or ran out of money to do so. She had it piled into a messy nest at the crown of her head.

The jeans and long sleeve, which did a great job of covering the bruises and burns Dean knew existed, were noticeably too long for her limbs. But he didn't expect her to be walking any runways in the near future, so they'd do just fine.

She didn't speak while they, well Dean, drove to the bunker. A full four and a half hours of pure silence from the Mother of God in the back seat. It was only after they'd pulled up to the bunker's entrance that she spoke.

"This is it?" she questioned, wrinkling her tiny nose.

"Home sweet home." Dean said with relief as he pulled their bags out of the trunk. Sammy, ever the gentleman, held the girl's door open and ushered her toward the huge vault like door of the bunker.

Once inside, Sam lead her to an empty room, which was to be her room for the time being, and gave her a "tour" or the place. From the kitchen Dean could hear his brother try to explain different rooms. " _This is the library, or at least that's what we call it. We usually do our research in here. There's book on everything. Well, almost everything. Here, look."_

It was painful to listen too. So instead, Dean made his way to his own bedroom. It was his sanctuary. The last actual bedroom he'd had was before their mom died. From that moment on, it was shared hotel rooms and occasionally his own bed. But never his own _space_. Never his own private room with a door that locked.

There wasn't much inside. A bed, a chair and a dresser. But it was a true reflection of himself. A few classic CD's scattered on the nightstand beside a picture of his mom and dad. The bed tightly made with painstaking precision.

His body craved the bed. It needed the hard thin mattress. Wanted the security of the heavy sheets. He gave in greedily, only to be woken twenty minutes later by a loud knocking on his door.

"Dean?" Sam called out.

"What?" he groaned into his pillow.

"I'm going out to stock the fridge." the reply took a moment for Dean to grasp then he remembered that they'd decided it was too dangerous to stop for groceries with Thea in the car. The bunker had been empty for weeks. Anything that had been left in the fridge probably smelled worse than a dumpster the week after Thanksgiving.

"Okay." he mumbled the word towards the door, but he knew Sam hadn't heard it.

"Thea is sleeping." he continued. "Maybe check on her in a an hour or so? Make sure she's alright, ya know."

"Kay." was all Dean could manage before he was pulled back under by sleep. It wasn't long before that he was woken up by another knock.

No, not a knock. A crash.


End file.
